The Many Movie Mistakes of Mr Peabody & Sherman
by TheWriterOfTruth
Summary: I wrote this in the span of a few hours using a list of movie mistakes I found on IMDB. Fourth-wall breaking and low-hanging fruit humour ahoy. Wrote this to avoid having to work on my main fic for a while.


It was a lazy, Saturday morning in the kitchen of a New York City penthouse. Mr. Peabody, the smartest dog in the world, and Sherman, his adoptive son, were both lazily going through the motions of their morning routines. Sherman, whom had been eager to go to the library that day, made sure to wake up earlier than he usually would on a weekend to get as much time there as possible. Munching away on his bowl of oat-pillow cereal, he hummed to himself quietly. Seated nearby on another chair, was his legal guardian and father, reading the weekend newspaper while chowing down on his own breakfast, consisting of avocado toast, and a glass of organic orange juice.

Suddenly, a young man that couldn't be any older than 25, strode into the room.

"You," he pointed a finger to Peabody, before quickly drifting it over to Sherman "and you. In the loungeroom. Now." Without another word, he stormed out.

"Uh…" Sherman began, "What was that just now? Who was that guy? Mr. Peabody, did you invite someone over?"

"No, Sherman, I did not. It'd be best if you let me handle this but be prepared to call nine-one-one at any moment." He clasped his paws to the edge of the table, preparing to let himself out of the chair to investigate. He was interrupted, however, by the man re-entering the room.

"Oh, and by the way," He snipped, "Avocado toast is a fad. And you're pairing it with orange juice. Well done." He sarcastically remarked, clapping his hands together in mock congratulations.

"Actually, avocado is not overrated. It is high in fibre, contains monounsaturated fats, and-" He was cut off by the stranger's raised hand.

"I. Don't. Care. It's cliché and showy. Cry me a river if you disagree. Now hurry up and get out here." He ducked back out of the kitchen.

Looking at one another, Peabody and his son shrugged, and decided to abandon their breakfasts to join the stranger in the main living space.

"Alright, glad you decided to join me," He clapped his hands together. "Take a seat on the couch. Now, before I get started with my little presentation, do either of you have any idea why I'm here?" He held his hands together, bouncing his gaze between the two expectantly.

"Uh," Peabody gazed at the intruder in mild discomfort, "You're not here to steal from me?"

The trespasser shook his head incredulously. "What? No, I don't care about your money. Why are you famous people always so quick to assume that I'm here for money?"

Sherman raised a brow at that. "Always? This isn't your first time breaking into someone's home before?"

The intruder waved a hand in dismissal. "That's irrelevant, what's really relevant is why I'm here; So, can we please get back onto the topic at hand?" He pleaded to the dog and boy.

The pair exchanged unreadable glances, before Peabody sighed, leaning back into his seat, nodding half-heartedly, permitting the mysterious man to begin talking.

"Alright, so here's the short version. Your movie sucks." He stated matter-of-factly, tucking his hands behind his back.

"M-my movie?" Peabody queried. "The movie we made back in twenty-fourteen?"

"Yes, the movie you made back in 'twenty-fourteen', did you think I'd never get around to calling you out on your bullsh-"

Peabody interjected, "Now, now. Let's not get carried away. I just find it odd that it took this long for anybody to tell me this." He furrowed his brows in displeasure.

"Sorry, Pea-bod. Sometimes you just won't hear the things you need to hear from the people that really respect you. That's why I'm here!" He gestured to himself, which earned an unimpressed expression from the genius dog.

"That's a bit harsh, don't you think?" Sherman piped up, "Mr. Peabody worked really hard on that movie, and it had time-traveling fun, a jaw-dropping story of friendship and love, high stakes, and a triumph over evil. What more could you ask for in a movie?"

"Well, that's all fun and good if all you want from a movie is a pair of bumbling idiots traipsing around aimlessly in a daisy field for ninety minutes like a couple of headless geese," The man shrugged, "But for the rest of us, that just doesn't cut it. And don't flatter yourselves, I don't think anyone would use the words 'jaw-dropping' when describing anything about it. Maybe we saw different movies."

Mr. Peabody blinked in confusion at the bizarre analogy. "But at the very least you can say that my film saw to it that children across the globe were enraptured by my charming exploits and, as a small bonus, were taught a lesson or two about the history of the world! You can't discount the educational value of it." Peabody reasoned, to no avail. The man shook his head repeatedly throughout his rebuttal.

"Actually, you can. Your movie sucks _because_ it is full of mistakes. I'll be right back." He ran out of the room very briefly, wheeling a whiteboard back into the room with him. "Can I erase any of this?" The man gestured to the board, which was completely covered in indecipherable calculations, undoubtedly belonging to Mr. Peabody.

"No." Said Peabody.

"Too bad, this is priority number one." The man immediately began erasing the black marker with his sleeve. "I think it's a fair assumption to make, that every movie based on science, history, math, and all manner of intellect would take the proper precautions to ensure that everything that happens within said movie is correct, that there are no historical anachronisms, and that everything is within the realm of possibility."

"Ana-what?" Sherman questioned.

"Anachronisms. Your movie about smart things should have been fact-checked by, you guessed it, smart people." The man snidely retorted.

"I don't like where this is going, but very well. Tell me where I went wrong." Mr Peabody relented.

The man fist-pumped into the air. "YES! That, my friend, is the first step to admitting that you're wrong. It's a long road of recovery, but if you stick with me, we'll get you through this." His excited tone bordered on patronising.

"Don't push your luck." Peabody grumbled.

"Any questions before I begin?" The man queried.

"Several." Peabody snipped.

"Save them until after the presentation. I hope you're ready, Mister Peabody." The intruder phonetically elongated the dog's title, much to his disdain. "Because we are about to lay waste to your unruly concoction of a film, absolutely annihilate your adventure, pick apart your picture, dethrone your-"

Peabody cut him off again, "Alright, alright! Just get on with it, I have a long list of errands to run today, and I won't be held accountable for a late meeting with a leading health organisation."

"Oh, I'm sorry, sir." The man apologised, words dripping with insincerity. "Sorry to take you out of your busy schedule. I guess I won't have to tell you about your first error then, regarding basic city architecture."

"What?" Peabody sighed in resignation, noticing the segue.

"When you and Sherman were in the sewer tunnels of Versailles, back in 1789. Using your quick wit you dislodge an overhead manhole cover, sending your foe unconscious. But this should be physically impossible, because the diameter of the cover itself has to exceed the diameter of the hole, hence why," He raised his hands to perform air-quotes "It is called a 'manhole cover'. So there's no possible way that the cover could have fallen into the sewer, thus rendering your tact, shall we say, tactless." The man leaned against the board, intensely staring into the face of the canine. "What say ye?"

"I say… that is a fair criticism." Peabody ran a paw over his own face, admitting the small but definite error. Sherman gave him a look of surprise.

"You didn't notice that at all while we were making the movie?" Sherman sputtered. "I get that you have to bend reality a little to make some scenes look cool, but this is pretty embarrassing, Mr. Peabody!"

"I don't recall you making any comments about incorrectly sized manhole covers, Sherman." Peabody snapped back. "And I could do without the rude comments, I'm already hearing enough from one side of the room." He waved a paw over to the culprit.

"Shall I continue?" The man eagerly awaited Peabody's approval.

"Sure, by all means, continue." He shrugged.

The man beamed. "Thank you, now where was I… Oh yeah, the second mistake. So," He clapped his hands together, "After your little battle, you ask Sherman if he can smell the methane gas within the sewer. Methane gas, however, is odourless FOR SHAME!" He jabbed another finger towards the canine. "Methane gas is given a scent when sold commercially to avoid accidental leaks. So unless if you have some kind of exceptional sense of smell, there would be no way to know that the sewer was full of methane gas."

Peabody shrugged. "Very well, another oversight. Continue."

"Not only that," He continued, "But you also failed to mention that Marie Antoinette was actually Austrian by birth, and not French! Nor is there any evidence to suggest that she ever said 'Let them eat cake'."

Sherman looked down to his watch. "Can you start listing them off quickly? I have to get going soon."

The man let out a quiet 'hmph'. "Very well," He sighed, "Speed round. Peabody, when you drove Sherman to school for the first time, you reminded him of the 'I before E, except after C' technique, which has been proven to be non-applicable to more words than it is applicable. Not only that, but you also commit a traffic offense, the 'Failure to Yield the Right of Way', when the traffic light turns green."

Peabody sat upright. "Now wait just a second, I-"

The man raised a chastising finger "Ah! I'm not finished. Later in the movie, when you're playing a trombone for the Petersons, the sound it makes is clearly added in post, as you can hear that it has a straight mute attached to it, which wasn't visible in the movie. Seems like someone's been faking their musicianship."

"A small error on the sound team's behalf." Peabody interjected. "Typical sound inconsistencies when recording sound off-set."

"Fine, I'll let you have that one. But later, when you visit Leonardo da Vinci, you frequently refer to him as 'da Vinci', which is more of a post-humous name, and I severely doubt that anybody would have called him that at any point of his life."

"You're just speculating!" Peabody exclaimed.

"That's rich, coming from you!" The intruder barked back. "As I was saying, when you later try to make Lisa Gherardini smile for her painting, you demonstrate what you referred to as a 'Prat fall', but instead you fall on your nose rather than, you know, your prat? What's up with that?"

"I-"

"And as if that weren't bad enough already, she had eyebrows in the movie, which the real Mona Lisa didn't have, and we see Leonardo painting on a canvas, when the real Mona Lisa itself is clearly painted on a plank of poplar wood. Did you seriously think he'd be painting on canvas during the renaissance?"

"I think-"

"And after that, when you travel back to the Trojan War, Sherman is referred to as 'Shermanus', which is a suffix that wasn't invented until the Latin language was developed during the Roman Empire, 300 years later. And when the pair of you travel back, or uh, forward into the immediate past of the dinner with the Petersons, you and Sherman fuse with your past selves to correct a paradox, but in doing so prevent your previous selves from travelling back to Ancient Egypt, and thus never saving Penny from her original fate. That alone would have caused a great deal of chronological pain. And that reminds me, Tutankhamen's wife was never subjected to the mummification process, she presumably went on to live out the rest of her life, after vanishing from historical records."

The room fell silent for a few beats, the dog, his son, and the man all motionless in the tension.

"Are you finished?" Peabody queried.

The trespasser straightened out his posture. "Yes." He replied.

"Then let me offer this as an inquisition. What could I possibly to do remedy my… numerous blunders?"

He perked up somewhat at that. "You could always make a sequel. Maybe with a bit more R-and-D behind it, see what worked and what didn't, and come back even stronger with a really tight follow-up film."

Peabody's face fell into a neutral expression. "You know, I was considering that initially, but now that you mention it, I don't feel so inclined to make a sequel anymore. Consider it cancelled. Now get out of my house."

"Alright then." The man shrugged. "Can't say I didn't try. It's not really a house, by the way, it's an apartment."

"Get out."

"A domicile at best."

"Sherman, I changed my mind, call nine-one-one."

"Alright, alright, I'm going. Can you at least give me a lift to the nearest bus depot?"


End file.
